Odyssey Dawn
by Eric J. Alderson
Summary: Lossiemouth, Scotland, March 21, 2011... This is the story of the air raids over Libya from the POV of a british pilot, leader of the renown squadron 617 "Dambusters". It'll carry you along his missions from Scotland to Italy and the sands of Libya...
1. Chapter 1 : My first war mission

**ODYSSEY DAWN**

**AN : **

**Hello there,**

**I'm back with the new story promised. This one is also inspired by the events that occured and are still occuring in Libya at the moment, but this time it's from the POV of a british Tornado GR4 pilot from Squadron 617 "Dambusters" in Lossiemouth. **

**And for those who read in my profile about my other project, Wings of Glory, Squadron Leader Alexander is indeed related to this book as he's Peter Alexander's grandson (Peter Alexander being WoG main character).**

**Again, I'll ask you not to be too hard on me if a little spelling or grammar error was left after I checked my text with an online corrector... English is not my first language...**

**Well then, that's enouch chit-chat, here we go with... **_  
_

* * *

_Chapter 1 : My first war mission…_

_Lossiemouth RAF Station, early morning, March 21, 2011…_

I was just back from a training flight, filling my mission report in my office, when I saw Wing Commander Stephenson coming to me…

- "Hey, Alexander, glad to see you back. There's a briefing for all 617th squadron pilots at eighteen hundred tonight, and you're scheduled to conduct it with me as we're going to strike Gadaffi's positions and the Good Ol' Dambusters will lead the strike as it should be…"

- "I'll be there at seventeen hundred at your office to prepare the briefing then, Sir. Are the other guys advised of the briefing ?"

- "Of course. They're already taking a long nap in the restroom"

- "All right then, I'll do the same as soon as I'm done with this report as it seems this will be a long flight…"

- "It will be indeed. See you then."

A few minutes later, my report finished and sent, I dropped down on the couch and, not long after, I was sleeping soundly, getting as much rest as I could before heading for the first time to real combat.

* * *

_Briefing Room, Eighteen hundred hours._

All my pilots had arrived and as I was standing near the mural map our chief, Wing Co Stephenson, introduced us to the mission.

- "Well, Gentlemen… Today in the early afternoon, the French Air Force has launched the first strikes against Gadaffi's troops near Benghazi. As we now have the green light from the US Security Council, our French friends are sending the Charles de Gaulle aircraft carrier tomorrow and, as our USAF friends are a bit slow to deploy, we'll have the honor to be the first to pull the trigger on Muammar's airfields.

Our target for tonight will be Tripoli's military air bases and anti-aircraft defenses. Our colleagues from Squadron 31 from Marham will suppress the AA sites with their ALARM anti-radar Missiles and bombs, opening us a corridor to strike the airfield's runways with our JP233 Low Altitude Airfield Attack System, each aircraft carrying two of those weapons. The CAP will be conducted by our French friends, flying the new Rafale jet fighter from Istres airbase.

Our flight plan is very simple : first we will head east-south-east to the Dover Straits where we'll rendez-vous with Squadron 31 from Marham, then we will continue across France to Istres where we'll head south-east to Tripoli across the Mediterranean sea. The available emergency landing points will be Dijon and Istres in France, Solenzara in Corsica, Decimomannu in Sardenia and Trapani in Sicilly.

On this mission, we'll have to refuel mid-air, two Victor tankers will be part of our flight from the Dover Straits to this point south of Decimomannu. We'll first refuel near Istres, then on the return leg we'll refuel again before we'll cross the French coast line, as the last part of our flight will have to be done at low level and high subsonic speed to avoid detection.

Take-Off at 22:00. Squadron Leader Alexander will lead the squadron. No further questions ?"

- "Will Squadron 31 only target the AA sites or will they also strike the airfields ?", asked Flight Lieutenant Wilkes

- "They will only strike the AA Sites. They will go first, and we will follow about 120 second behind them. Also, take good note of all our refueling points. We will go for a long journey, so no use to stray from our "pack", right ?"

A chorus of "Yessir" and "Aye, Sir" boomed in the small room. As soon as WingCo Stephenson left us, I went to the readiness table and called the eight crews for the mission…

- "Okay, Boys ! For today's mission, we will fly in two 4-elements flights. Our Callsign will be "Tallboy" Red flight will be led by me, with Harris as number two, McGayley as number three and Corbin as number four. Wilkins, you will lead Blue Flight, with Jackson as number two, Jarvis as number three and Martin as number four. The others are dismissed, but will have to remain on the station in 30-minutes readiness, just in case another raid would be necessary."

And, as soon as the other pilots were gone, I left the briefing room for the locker's room, followed by my crews, and twenty minutes later I was climbing in my Tornado, my WSO already seated on the rear seat and entering the flight data in the navigation system. As I was ready to put on my helmet, the Spy climbed the ladder, holding me a document.

- "Sir, we've got new intelligence about the target. There's a lot of AA batteries being moved to Tripoli from the inland, so be ready for some fierce opposition. Also, it seems they have moved a squadron of MiG 23 Flogger to Tripoli, but from what we gathered they're not able to fly at night…"

- "Thanks, Spy, but I'll work nevertheless on the assumption they're able to fly at night, just in case. Never bad to take extra precautions, isn't it ?"

- "Indeed, Sir."

- "Well, thanks, Spy. Now, if you'd please get out of this ladder, I'd be able to start my engines you know…"

- "Oh… Of course… Good hunting, then… And Godspeed !"

He then got down and as soon as my ground crew removed the ladder I started my two jet engines, closing the canopy. As soon as the RPM were in the "green", I eased the throttle forward and my aircraft started to roll out of the shelter and taxi to runway 22, followed by the other seven aircrafts of my squadron. As soon as I got to the runway, I called the tower.

- "Control, this is Tallboy Leader, ready to take-off from runway 22."

- "Copy, Tallboy. You're clear to take-off and proceed on heading one eight zero at angels twenty. Airspace clear on the range. Call Linton as soon as you're airborne."

- "Wilco, Control. OK, let's go boys, taking-off !"

And in the roar of the jet engines pushed to maximum thrust, my Tornado raced on to the end of the runway… Soon we were airborne, climbing fast to the south-east and our first real combat.

* * *

**AN : Well, there it is, the end of Chapter 1. Next to come is Chapter 2 : A long flight...**


	2. Chapter 2 : Calm before the Storm

**Chapter 2 : Calm before the Storm**

About an hour after we took off from Lossiemouth, we were flying high above Ipswitch, still heading south - south-east to the Dover Straits. As I was performing another regular instrument check, the radio crackled to life…

- "Tallboy, this is Saxton Control. Climb to level twenty-six. Lightning Squadron forty miles ahead of you. Over !"

- "Wilco, Saxton Control, climbing to level twenty six and proceeding full subsonic speed to rendez-vous with Lightning. Tallboy, Out !"

I quickly performed a 360° visual check and called my wingmen.

- "Tallboy Red One to all Tallboy aircrafts, climbing to level 25 and proceed to full military power. Our little friends are fourty clicks ahead and waiting for us !"

- "Red Two, Wilco !"

- "Three !"

- "Four !"

- "Blue Leader, Roger and Wilco !"

I then eased the throttle forward and, pulling the stick to me, climbed swiftly to twenty six thousand feet while accelerating to Mach 8.5[1]. After another ten minutes of flight, I got a visual contact on squadron 31 and immediately called them on the radio.

- "Lightning for Tallboy Leader, Coming in your Six, Level twenty-six, speed nine point five."

- "Copy, Tallboy. We'll join you as you pass us by… "

- "Roger. Tallboy One to all Tallboy and Lightning aircraft, we'll proceed to one six zero, level twenty six at eight point five until further notice."

- "Tophat Blue, Copy"

- "Lightning, Copy that !"

Not less than ten minutes later, as we were crossing the channel between Dover and Boulogne, we were called by the French ATC[2]

- "Tophat formation, this is Creil Contrôle, proceed to level twenty two at your current speed. Welcome to Doulce France !"

- "Tophat Leader, Wilco, Creil Control.", then, to my wingmen, "Heard that boys ?"

- "Blue One, Copy"

- "Lightning, Copy"

We then entered the French air space, still flying high above the coast line, proceeding to our first rendez-vous with our Victor tankers near Istres.

* * *

_At the same time, Trapani AB, Sicilly…_

Captain Alexander, Blue Flight Leader of the 480th TFS[3] from Spangdalhem Air Base, was sitting with his fellow pilots in the briefing room. As Colonel Faulkleitner came in the room, everybody got up to attention. As soon as he got on the podium, he motioned us "at ease" and we all seated back.

- "Well, Gentlemen, today we are going to work for our British friends. Two squadrons of Tornado bombers, coming straight from Britain, will strike Tripoli's military airfield and anti-aircraft positions around the city. Our mission will be to draw the Libyans fighters away from them and, after, to escort them on their way back to their tankers near Corsica. We'll proceed by flights, each one providing a CAP[4] on a precise "box". Red flight, lead by myself, will patrol near Misratah. Yellow Flight, led by Anderson, will patrol the approach zone twenty miles north of Tripoli. Blue Flight, led by Alexander, will have the most delicate mission as it will patrol directly above Tripoli City. But as soon as we have the "Egress[5]" call from the bombers, Blue flight will provide them with a close escort, Yellow will stay twenty clicks behind, and Red flight will stay back over the target to draw most of the enemy reaction away from the strike package, and right into the trap prepared by our French friends as a squadron of Mirages will arrive on the area just ten minutes after the beginning of the strike. So, check correctly your IFF. That's it. Any questions ?"

- "What about the opposition coming from Zuwara and Sabhah[6] ?"

- "We know that the squadrons posted in Zuwara and Tripoli have no night fighting capability. About the squadrons in Sabhah, we do not have that much information about them, but we'll work on the assumption they have that capability. That's why we'll provide both close and high cover for the strikers when they will quit the target area !"

- "Ok then, Sir"

- "Any more questions ? Well then, let's get to work kids !"

Philip then followed his leader to the lockers room where they got their flying suits on…

* * *

_Mediterranean Sea, forty miles south of Istres…_

- Victor Three One for Tallboy Leader, tanks full, disengaging !

- Copy that, Tallboy Leader. Tallboy Blue One, you're clear to proceed to refueling, over !

- Victor Three One, for Tallboy Blue One, Wilco !"

As Blue One was slowly drifting forward to refuel, I slowly drifted left and then proceeded to climb in front of the tankers to wait for the rest of my squadron. Our first air refueling was under way and, up to now, was proceeding smoothly. I was also glad my guys were working fine, none of our aircraft having to abort to Istres or Dijon[7]. Five minutes later, I had another call from Victor three One.

- Tallboy Leader for Victor Three One, refueling complete. We'll wait for you over Solenzara[8] for the second refueling, Over !

- Copy that, Victor Three One. See you soon, chaps !

- Roger that, Tallboy, and Godspeed ! Victor Three One, Out !

- Thanks, Victor ! Tallboy, Out !

I then made a 360° visual and saw that my wingmen were all at their stations, creating a double – VIC formation…

- "Tallboy Leader to all, this is it, Boys", I then called them on the radio, "From now, we're on radio black-out. Proceed to five hundred feet, speed nine point five, and maintain formation. If you have to break the radio black-out for any reason, make only short calls, it will make it harder for the enemy to detect us ! I will switch on and off three times my lights when we'll be near the target, and from this point on we will fly on combat formation at five hundred and at Mach nine point eight !"

- "Red Two, Copy"

- "Three, Copy"

- "Four, Roger-Roger" made Corbin with a robotic voice, just like a federation droid from Star Wars…

And, as I was getting ready to put some sense in his pea-sized mind, Wilkins answered the call for me…

- Blue Leader, Wilco, and May the force be with us… Always !

- "A-men", was the only answer I found able to utter, at the same time pushing the stick forward, diving to the clear waters of the Mediterranean sea, levelling at five hundred feet and easing a bit the throttle forward, accelerating to Mach nine point five, followed like my shadow by my squadron.

* * *

**Technical Notes**

[1] Mach : Unit of speed. Mach One is one time the speed of sound, as 661.5 knots (nautical miles per hour)  
[2] ATC : Air Traffic Control  
[3] TFS : Tactical Fighter Squadron  
[4] CAP : Close Air Patrol  
[5] Pilot Slang, means leaving the target area (or retreating)  
[6] Two Libyan Air Bases, the first one east of Tripoli, the second one far south of Tripoli, in the middle of the desert.  
[7] Two French Air Force air bases, the first in the hart of France, the second one on the Mediterranean sea, near the French Navy Station of Toulon.  
[8] French Air Force Base in Corsica.

**Author Note : **

**Here is the second chapter of Odyssey Dawn. You'll see that not only the RAF will be involved but also the USAFE and others Air Forces and Navy... Those two first chapters had little "action" in it, but they were necessary to draw a correct picture of the different elements involved. But trust me on that one, next chapter will be more "action-packed" with the strike on Tripoli's airfield and some air combat between the US F-16 and a few Libyan MiGs...**  
**Also, please, pretty please, take some time to review this story. Your reviews are what gives me the drive to write more**


	3. Chapter 3 : Into the devil's den

**_Earlier in "Odyssey Dawn"..._**

_ - "Tallboy Leader to all, this is it, Boys", I then called them on the radio, "From now, we're on radio black-out. Proceed to five hundred feet, speed nine point five, and maintain formation. If you have to break the radio black-out for any_  
_ reason, make only short calls, it will make it harder for the enemy to detect us ! I will switch on and off three times my lights when we'll be near the target, and from this point on we will fly on combat formation at five hundred and at_  
_ Mach nine point eight !"_

___ - _ "Red Two, Copy"

___ - _ "Three, Copy"

___ - _ "Four, Roger-Roger" made Corbin with a robotic voice, just like a federation droid from Star Wars…

_ And, as I was getting ready to put some sense in his pea-sized mind, Wilkins answered the call for me…_

___ - _ "Blue Leader, Wilco, and May the force be with us… Always !"

___ - _ "A-men", was the only answer I found able to utter, at the same time pushing the stick forward, diving to the clear waters of the Mediterranean sea, levelling at five hundred feet and easing a bit the throttle forward, accelerating to Mach nine point five, followed like my shadow by my squadron.

...

**_And now the story continues with... _**

**Chapter Three : Into the devil's den !**

_~~At the same time, high above Sirte's Gulf…~~_

- "Eagle Leader to all eagles, split formation in flights and proceed to your patrol area. Red Flight, you follow me, turning left to One One Zero"

- "Red two, copy"

- "Red three, wilco"

- "Red four, will do"

At the same time, Blue flight, led by Philip Alexander, proceeded to its station high above the shores of Tripoli, waiting for any enemy contact. That's when he heard a call on the combat frequency, coming from the AWACs orbiting near Malta, some two hundred miles north of Tripoli…

- "Eagle squadron, Grass Seed, we have six bogeys taking-off from Sabhah, climbing north towards Misratah"

- "Eagle one, copy that, Grass Seed. Eagle red, with me on one eight zero, we intercept. Eagle yellow and blue, hold your station until further notice"

- "Yellow one, copy"

- "Blue one, roger and wilco !"

_~~Tallboy squadron, thirty miles north – northwest of Tripoli…_~~

We were flying low, closing fast on the Libyan coastline, the Tunisian coast zooming off our right wing… I checked once again my instruments and, seeing everything was nominal, I performed another visual check on my wingmen. We quickly arrived at fifteen miles of the target and I then called the squadron on the radio.

- "Tallboy One to all Tallboys, target right ahead fifteen kliks1. We proceed to level one2, speed nine point two. Tally-Ho, boys !"

We then started to climb slowly to ten hundred feet, closing rapidly on the target. As we were at eight miles of Tripoli's airfield, the sky literally lit up in front of us like a Christmas tree while our RWR3 started to chime in our helmets… The SAM4 and AAA5 sites had been struck by the 31st squadron for sure, but the tiger still had claws… That's when I called our attack to the AWACs.

- "Grass Seed, Tallboy on target !"

- "Copy, Tallboy. Bandits incoming from the south at forty miles, already being taken care of"

- "Copy that. Tallboy, Out !"

Not too stressed about the Bandits as they were still some distance from us, I concentrated on the target that was coming fast in my HUD6. I selected the JP-2337 and armed them.

- "Target two klicks", called my WSO.

- "Copy… Weapons armed…" and, on the squadron frequency, "Tallboys, Tally-Ho !"

I then let the nose drop a bit and levelled at five hundred feet, our attack altitude, and as soon as I came at five hundred yards of the runways I pressed the trigger. The two JP-233 containers then started to spread the anti-runway bombs and the anti-personnel mines on the zone and, as I was crossing the end of the runway, I felt a slight shudder as the two empty containers were jettisoned from their pylons. I then pushed the throttle to full military power and, going down to two hundred feet, I left the area by a slow left turn, followed by the other GR4's from my squadron, my RWR still chiming in my helmet. That's when I saw it, high above, four light trails streaking south. Our guardian angels were closing on the threat, and as they flew high in the sky over Tripoli, engaging in a mortal ballet with the Libyan MiGs, we fled low and fast to our meeting point with our Victor tankers.

_~~Meanwhile, high above Tripoli…~~_

- "Grass seed for Eagle blue one, three of the bandits now thirty miles south of your position, level twelve, coming fast to the north. You're clear to intercept !"

- "Wilco, Grass Seed. Blue two, you take the number two, Three you take the tail end charlie8, I'll take the leader. Four, you stay in cover."

- "Blue two, wilco"

- "Three, copy"

- "Four, Roger and Wilco"

Philip then pushed the throttle to full afterburner, closing in fast on the enemy MiGs. At twenty miles, he got a radar lock on the leading jet and, selecting the long range missiles, he fired an Amraam9 at him. Nearly simultaneously, Blue two fired also an AIM-120 on the second MiG and, two seconds later, Alexander heard Rodriguez calling in

- "Blue three, Fox Three on the tail end charlie !"

Only a second later, the first Amraam hit the leading enemy fighter, a MiG 23 Flogger, and he disintegrated in a bright orange flash that lit the sky for a second or two.

- "Blue one, scratch one bandit10 !"

- "Blue two, scratch one", called also Philip's wingman as another brief flash of light lit up the sky again in front of them.

But after that, nothing… Not a word came from Rodriguez, nor did the third MiG appear on their radar.

- " Blue one to all Eagle Blue, come in", called Alexander, somewhat anxious.

- "Two, I'm with you"

- "Four, rejoining"

- "Three, I'm somewhat occupied now…"

- "Three for Leader, Status ?"

- "I'm quite stuck with the bastard, mind you…"

- "Three, where are you", Philip called again.

- "Low, five klicks south of the airbase…"

- "Two here, I see him, leader !"

- "Got him too… Two, you stick to me, we'll get him out of that mess. Tally-Ho !"

- "Roger-Roger", called Blue two, pure "Trade Federation Droid" style.

Alexander and his wingman then dove on the MiG wich, solely focused on Blue three's aircraft, never saw them coming. As they closed in for the kill, he called Rodriguez…

- "Blue three, I'm ready to fire. Break right at my mark… nay… nay… Now !"

Rodriguez suddenly launched his Falcon in a tight right turn, causing the Flogger to overshoot and thus putting Philip in a perfect position to "take the kill".

- "Eagle Blue One, I got the tone… Fox Two. Two Fox Two on the last MiG !", he called then on the radio

The MiG pilot, probably alerted by his RWR, launched his jet in a high speed climbing left turn, releasing Flares11 all the way… The first Sidewinder12, lured by them, went wide and chased thin air, but the second one was firmly locked on the exhaust of the MiG and, as the Libyan pilot made the mistake to dive right after his first move, the AIM-9L struck him square in the tail, blowing his aircraft in tiny bits of aluminium and steel in a short flash of light before they rained slowly down, following the bigger debris to the ground near the south border of the airfield. Philip then climbed back to fifteen thousand feet, followed by his flight, and headed back north to cover the retreating bombers, calling the AWACs at the same time.

- "Grass Seed, Eagle Blue one, threat eliminated, three bandits down, over !"

- "Copy that, Eagle Blue one, good show there. Strike package is now covered by Eagle Yellow, you're clear to proceed back to Trapani, Over !"

- "Roger and Wilco, Grass Seed ! Eagle Blue One, Out !"

* * *

**AN : Technical Notes**

1 **Klick** : slang. One klick is one nautical mile.

2 **Level** : Pilot slang. It's a way to tell the altitude. Level xx is the expression of altitude in thousands of feet (for example Level One is 1000 feet)

3 **RWR** : **Radar Warning Receiver**. It's a device that warns the pilot that his aircraft is lit by an enemy radar

4 **SAM** : anti-aircraft missiles

5 **AAA** : Also known as « **triple-A** », for Anti Aircraft Artillery

6 **HUD** : **Head-Up Display**, A device located in front of the pilot's eyes where crucial informations about the aircraft, the targets and weapons are displayed, doubling as a visor.

7 **JP-233** : Also known as **LAAAS** for Low-Altitude Airfield Attack System, it is a British sub-munition delivery system consisting of large dispenser pods carrying several hundred sub-munitions designed to attack runways.

8 **Tail-end Charlie** : Pilot slang. Expression for the last aircraft of a formation (and thus the one responsible to look out for any enemy aircraft coming from behind)

9 **AIM-120 Amraam** : the actual long-range radar guided missile used by both the USAF, the RAF and other western countries. It replaced the older AIM-7 Sparrow missile in the USAF and the Skyflash in the RAF.

10 **Scratch one Bandit** : Pilot slang. Means « one enemy aircraft shot down »

11 **Flare** : Decoy that produce heat, providing a better target for the heat-seeking missile.

12 **AIM-9L Sidewinder** : Also called « **Niner L** », it is a heat-seaking short range anti aircraft missile. In use in both the USAF, RAF and other european air forces.

* * *

**AN : Author's Notes.**

This is it. The first mission is concluded. Hope you've found this story as entertaining as it was fun and entertaining for me to write it. In the next chapter, we'll find back the 633 "Dam Busters" in a new base as they moved to Gioia del Colle, Italy, and get more and more involved in the operations with the USAF squadrons and their European counterparts from France and Belgium...

But to help me there, I need your help. Please, reviews are what fuels my will to write and also what gives me often hints and tips on things to add to the story.

Eric.


	4. Chapter 4 : A new mission, a new base

**AUTHORS NOTES :**

First of all, thanks to all of you folks for reading and reviewing this story.

**Ownerer117** : In fact, in the beginning, the USAFE and the USN only took part in a limited scale, then increased a bit their contribution. But it's not only them that are conducting the operations, as the French and British were the first to strike (Rafales & Mirages from the French Air Force, and Tornado GR4 bombers from Marham, UK, for the RAF). Then, other countries started to send aircrafts on zone (Belgium to Araxos, Greece ; Dutch to Italy and Sicilly, RAF aircrafts both in Trapani and Gioia del Colle, Italy, and also in RAF Akrotiri in Cyprus ; and also aircrafts from some Arab nations)...

**Yellow 14** : The "Movie Script" style is not unwanted. I find it a good way to put on speed in the story, and try to make the reader experience the real speed and thrill of air operations in enemy skies. Also, it's written as a "diary" from the RAF squadron 617 "Dambusters" commander (Squadron Leader Alexander), and that's why the part about the US squadron and Blue Flight leader Philip Alexander (cousin of Sqdn Ld Alexander) is written from an external point of view...

Also, I already advise that the next chapter will be closely connected to my short story "Last Flight of the Blue Falcon" as this story will be told from an external point of view and will explore more in depth the relation between the two cousins and also the way Philip Alexander will cope with the loss of his young wingman

But that's enough chit-chat, let's go on the story for...

* * *

**Chapter 4 : A new mission, a new base**

* * *

**_Gioia del Colle, Southern Italy._**

Two days later, we were all finally included in the general NATO/Coalition force operating from the Mediterranean area. As squadron 31 was sent to RAF Akrotiri in Cyprus, we also moved to Italy, in the Italian Air Force base of Gioia del Colle, where we joined a squadron of Typhoons that arrived there only twenty four hours ahead of us. That was somewhat a huge climatic change for us, from our cold early spring climate (it can be fairly cold and wet out there in Lossiemouth) to the southern Italian "farniente" with temperatures high above 15 Celcius on sunny days.

I was seated at a table in the mess, engaged in a hell of a bridge game, when Group Captain Miller came in.

- "Gentlemen, we'll have a mission this afternoon. Squadron 617, report to the briefing room for fourteen hundred zulu1, missions starts at fifteen hundred."

A concert of "Aye Sir" and "Yessir" echoed in the somewhat confined space of the Italian base's mess, and we then got back to our game...

* * *

**_Trapani AB, 09:35 zulu, the same morning._**

- "Hey, Alexander", called one of the youngest pilots, "when will I join the pack for a mission ? I'm here for three damned days and all I've ever seen of Libya was an image on the Telly..."

- "Whooo, slow down, Falco", Philip answered him, "don't be so eager to go to war... Those guys we're facing are no rookies, you know ? They've been trained by both the Russian and the Frenchies, and I'm sure that almost half of his air force, if not more, is made of mercenaries, certainly retired or AWOL2 pilots from Russia and all around the world... Those guys are dangerous, even for me, so I don't need to tell you you're standing no chance at all in a dogfight against most of them...

- "Bah... That's rubbish and you know it, Alex. I've been trained for this, I went twice to Nellis, so don't tell me I'm worth nothing compared to those bastards..."

- "But you are, old boy... They feed their kill ratio on young overconfident pilots like you. Sending you there would be like sending sheep to the butcher..."

At that moment, Colonel Faulkleitner entered the rest room.

- "Listen to him carefully, Falco, he's right to the last word of it !"

- "Perhaps, but I still wanna go..."

- "Okay, then... You'll be his number two in blue flight, and listen to every work he'll tell you for your life depends on it !"

- "Aye, and thank you, Sir !"

- "Okay. Mission ahead for us, so briefing in twenty minutes. We take off in an hour !"

- "All right, Sir, we'll be there", then, facing Falco, "Listen carefully, Falco, you stick to me like glue. If I say fight, you fight, and if I say flee, you flee, okay ?"

- "Will do, Sir !"

* * *

_**Gioia del Colle, 9 : 45 zulu time**_

- "Gioia Control, Tallboy Leader calling, ready to taxi to runway 14 right, over"

- "Tallboy, Gioia Control, you're cleared to taxi to runway 14 right. Hold short of 14 Left , Aircraft landings under way"

- "Tallboy, Copy, cleared to taxi to 14 right, holding short of 14 left for landing operations"

I then eased the throttle a notch or two before applying pressure on the brakes, then as the tech signalled me "all OK", I released them, eased the throttle a bit further and started to roll to the taxiway, quickly followed by my wingmen. Our mission : strike an armored column of Gadaffi's loyalists headed to Misratah as the US falcons would provide some radar suppression and, for once, the CAP would be performed by four pairs of Belgian Falcons based in Araxos, Greece. For this mission, our GR4's were loaded with Brimstone anti-armor missiles, Aim-9L Sidewinders air to air heat-seeking missiles for close protection and, of course, our CHAFF/FLARES dispenser pod.

As soon as I arrived at the 14 Left threshold, I called back the control.

- "Gioia Control, Tallboy holding short of 14 left !"

- "Copy Tallboy, aircraft landing, hold position until further notice. Gioia Control, Out !"

- "Copy that, Tallboy holding position until further notice, Out !"

Indeed, not more than two minutes later a KC-135 tanker landed in front of me, probably to refuel before being sent again on a refueling station above the Meditteranean Sea. As he was slowly exiting the runway, the controller called again.

- "Tallboy, Gioia Control, you're clear to proceed to runway 14 Right. Call back when ready to take-off."

- "Copy, Gioia, Tallboy proceeding to 14 Right !"

I eased the throttle a bit and released the brakes and my Tornado started to roll again, crossing Runway 14 Left and slowly closing to runway 14 right's threshold. I entered the runway and positioned my Tornado on the right of the large runway, my number two stopping his own aircraft on the left and on the rear of my fighter. I then called back Gioia Control.

- "Gioia, Tallboy ready to take-off runway 14 right, over."

- "Copy, Tallboy, you're cleared to take-off. Wind 10 knots south-east. Once airborne, proceed to level twenty on heading one nine five and contact Sigonella ATC on frequency three three seven point six, over"

- "Gioia Control, Tallboy, Wilco, taking-off, wind ten knots SE, proceeding to level twenty on heading one nine five, over"

I then pushed the throttle to full dry and, after two more second, to full afterburner. As I felt the nose lower a bit, I released the brakes. My GR4 then started to roll on the runway faster each passing second...

"V two... V One... Rotate !", I mumbled to myself my take-off sequence, and then pulled the stick to me, my fighter racing for the skies... "One hundred feet... Gear Up, flaps on zero...", I mumbled again as I was performing those actions automatically and then I called back Gioia. "Gioia Control, Tallboy airborne, switching to Sigonella ATC, Out !"

- "Gioia Control, copy that Tallboy, Arrivederci, Amici !"

- "Thanks, Gioia. Tallboy One, Out, and Ciao Amici !"

I then slowly turned right climbing at 20 degrees above Calabria, en route to Sicilly and our first waypoint above Sigonnella AB, followed by all my squadron.

* * *

_**Trapani AB, at the same moment...**_

The last of the F-16 from the 480th TFS had just taken off, loaded each with four Shrike anti-radar missiles, two Aamrams and two Sidewinders. As usual, Philip Alexander was leading blue flight.

- "Falcon One to all Falcons", called Col. Faulkleitner, "Let's proceed to level 25, heading one four zero, over !"

- "Red Two, copy"

- "Red Three, Wilco"

- "Red Four"

- "Blue One, Copy that, leader !"

- "Yellow One, Roger-Roger"

- "OK, and may the 'Air' Force be with us !", Philip answered that, trying his best to sound as "Alec Guinness-ish" as possible...

All that was heard back was a series of clicks and whistles... again Yellow One...

- "Artoo, stop pestering us, we're going to Missa-ratah, and that's final", he then called him on the squadron frequency...

- "Tiiuuuwww" was his only answer, and Colonel Faulkleitner seriously thought that as soon as they would be back to base, he'd change his call-sign to Artoo !

* * *

**_One hour later, 250 miles south of Catania..._**

Our flight untill there was totally uneventful. We cruised at a crawling speed of 350 knots, and nothing came to give us just a bit of animation... We were more used to fastest transits at minimum five hundred knots, like when we practiced over the north sea, and this slow approach was getting slowly on our nerves. Finally, we passed Malta and were about to enter the no-fly zone. That's when I called the squadron to give the last instructions prior to the attack.

- "Tallboy Leader to all Tallboys, we'll proceed from now on at level twelve, increasing speed to eight point five. We should soon catch up with the Wild Weasels. Over !"

- "Red Two, copy"

- "Three, Will do"

- "Four, Roger and wilco"

- "Blue One, Copy that, Leader !"

- "Yellow One, Copy, Rogue Leader"

"OK, Wings in attack position", I then answered, grinning like a fool under my oxygen mask at the joke...

We then slowly started to accelerate. My WSO got immediately at work, arming the missiles and scanning the radar scope for any enemy contact.

* * *

**_Falcon Squadron, ten thousand feet above Tallboy squadron..._**

- "Grass Seed, Falcon leader", called Faulkleitner, "We've got Tallboy on radar"

- "Grass Seed, Roger that. Proceed ahead of them, you've the green light to treat any radar threat in the area. Tiger will also provide a CAP patrol at level 25, so check your ICM"

- "Falcon, Wilco.", answered Falcon one, then to his squadron, "Okay, Boys. Let's do this correctly. Red flight with me on Misratah, Yellow, you go on to Sirte, Blue, you're on to Tripoli. Over !"

- "Blue One, Copy that Leader"

- "Yellow One, Will do !"

- "Okay, let's switch now !"

And each flight then got on his separate way to its target area, missiles armed and already scanning for enemy radars...

* * *

**AN : Notes**

**1 : ZULU Time** : military way to say « _local time_ »

**2 : AWOL :** Acronym for « _Absent WithOut Leave_ ». Aka « _deserters_ »


	5. Chapter 5 : Clipping the Dragon's Claws

**Author's Notes : **_I'm absolutely sorry for the long time it took me to publish this fifth chapter, but between a important assignment at work (I was head of the administrative department for the modern art exhibition that was held the last four weeks at work, and had a lot of work to do about that between being there for the visitors(as I'm the only one at work speaking dutch and english fluently (the others only speak french and a few words of dutch) I had to perform visits for German and Dutch visitors), programming the website and all the administrative papers, etc... So, it left me just a tiny bit of free time I had to spare for my researches about modern air warfare for my next story (about the Royal Air Force & Royal Navy in the Falklands, present day, and the Argie's military forces as they are now...) so, I only had time to finish and correct this chapter this week._

_Also, it may take some time before the next chapter will be published, as I was told that a new assignment is coming up for me, and I'll perhaps have to move a lot from a department to another..._

_But enough chit-chat about work, let's get to the action with :_

* * *

**Chapter 5 : Clipping the dragon's claws**

_Tallboy squadron, 30 miles north of target._

- "Tallboy Leader to all Tallboy aircrafts, let's proceed to level five, get ready to receive targeting information !"

- "Two, copy

- "Three, Roger

- "Four, Wilco

- "Blue One, Copy that, Leader

- "Yellow One, Roger-Roger !

I then pushed the stick forward and dove, followed by my wingmen. I leveled at five thousand feet above the Mediterranean sea shortly after, the Lybian shore in sight…

- "Boss, I get radar frequencies going off in the target area", called Red Two, "Seems our Yankee friends are efficient against the SAM sites…"

- "Copy, Two. Got any target confirmation ?"

- "Not yet, Leader. But I have multiple vehicles in the area… That should come soon, I hope"

- "Well, let's hope this won't turn to be an all-brawl with Gaddafi's MiGs…"

- "Leader, Blue One, I got nothing on radar, only us, the US falcons and the Belgian Tigers arriving from the East. "

- "Roger that, Two" I told him before calling on Grass Seed's frequency. "Grass Seed, Tallboy, en route to target area. Any news ?"

- "Target being sent right now, Tallboy. Proceed to One Nine Five, armoured column heading to Misratah is your target !"

- "Copy, Grass Seed. Proceeding to one nine five. Tallboy, Out !"

_Falcon Blue Flight, above Tripoli's shores…_

Captain Alexander was leading his flight of four F-16 C straight into Harm's way, his RWR sending him multiple warnings as, one by one, the Libyan SAM radars were painting his aircraft.

- "Falcon Blue One to all Falcon Blue aircrafts, proceed to Claw's Clipping !"

- "Two, Wilco"

- "Three, Roger that, Leader"

- "Four, Will do !"

- "Falcon Blue One, Magnum", Philip then called, firing two of his HARM missiles on the Libyan radar sites, followed by six other missiles fired by his wingmen.

Homing on the radar waves, the AGM-88 missiles sped at Mach 2 to the SAM sites. Several of them shut their radar off as they got sight of the missiles on their scopes, but bad luck for them those missiles were programmed to home on the last signal origin if the signal was lost.

And, true to their aim, they brought down the SAM radars defending Tripoli. As soon as they saw the impact flashes, Alexander climbed with his flight to thirty thousand feet as fast as he could, in case there would be any fighter in the area. As they were finally turning around, they got a call from the AWACS

- "Falcon Blue, Grass Seed, bandits at forty miles south, closing fast on you !"

- "Copy, Grass Seed. Blue Three and Four, you head back to base. Blue Two, you cover me, we're going in !"

- "Two, I'm with you, Leader"

- "Three, Copy !"

- "Four, Roger !"

As Blue Three and Four continued on their way back to Trapani, Captain Alexander and Lieutenant Falco turned 180 degrees, heading back to Tripoli and, sure enough, they soon got the four bandits on their radar.

- "Two, stray close, we'll fire at 20 miles, then we'll turn east to lure any missile fired upon us."

- "Copy, Leader !"

_Meanwhile, above Misratah's outskirts._

- "Tallboy Leader to all Tallboy aircrafts, target ahead ten clicks. Tally-Ho, boys ! "

We got in spread formation and, one after another, fired our Brimstone missiles at Gaddafi's tanks. Seconds later, the rebels on the ground witnessed an apocalyptic scene as the tanks and armored vehicles were hit one after the other by our anti-armor missiles, the turrets of the soviet built T-72 tanks being propelled yards in the air before falling back on the blazing inferno that its tank has become. In only a matter of seconds, one of the best armored battalion of Gaddafi's loyalist troops was turned into shreds to the delight of the rebels who waved at our aircrafts as we passed low and fast above the destroyed target.

After witnessing myself the destruction of the tanks, only being fired at by light weaponry, I rounded up my pilots.

- "Tallboy Leader to all Tallboys, target destroyed, let's head home, boys !"

But, as we were climbing our way back over Sirte's gulf, the Awacs called us again.

- "Tallboy, Grass Seed, bandits sixty clicks south of your position, MiG probable, heading north towards you at high speed. Tiger has been vectored to them as well as Falcon Red !"

- "Copy that, Grass Seed. We go supersonic !"

- "Red Two, Copy"

- "Red Three, Wilco"

- "Red Four !"

- "Blue One, Copy that Leader"

- "Yellow One, Roger and Wilco !"

I then pushed the throttle to full afterburner and, pulling the stick, I climbed fast to twenty thousand feet, where we continued to accelerate to Mach 1.5. Soon we let the MiGs far behind us, and as we crossed out of the no-fly zone we slowed down to mach 0.8 and proceeded to our rendez-vous with our tanker.

_Falcon Blue one and two, twenty miles north of Tripoli…_

- "Okay, Falco", said Philip Alexander to his wingman, "I'll take the leader, you take the number two !"

- "Two, Wilco !"

- "Okay… Locked on target aaannnddd… Falcon Blue One, Two Fox Three on the leader !", Philip shouted as he fired two AIM-120 on the first enemy fighter.

- "Blue Two, Fox Three on number two !", then shouted Falco, firing too an Aamram missile !

They then turned to the east, throttle on full dry, and soon enough the missiles found their target, two of the four french-build Mirages F-1 blowing up in a bright flash of light and debris raining down on the Mediterranean.

But, as soon as they turned back to face the two remaining Mirages, they got an alarming sound coming from their RWR : they were locked on by their foes and, sure enough, they were ready to shoot. They quickly both fired another AIM-120 at their foes and, releasing Chaffs, they turned again to the east, towards Misratah. Philip was hit first, his F-16 damaged by the enemy missile.

- "Grass Seed, Falcon Blue One. Mayday, mayday, I'm hit, aircraft damaged, I don't know how long it'll hold… "

- "Hang on, Leader, I'll cover you"

- "Negative, Two, head back, I'll manage !"

- "Falcon Blue, Grass Seed, Tiger forty miles east, closing in as fast as possible, hang on !"

- "Already doin' that, Grass Seed !"

- "Falcon Blue Two, Fox Two on the eastern bandit !"

- "Look Out, Falco, bandit coming in your three O'clock, ten clicks !"

- "Copy, Blue One… Ah…Splash one, Grass Seed"

- "Copy that, Falcon Blue Two. Tiger now twenty clicks and closing !"

- "Roger. You OK, Blue one ?"

- "Tryin'…"

- "Damn, Fox Fox Fox, Break left, Blue One !"

- "Copy. Gosh, can't got it off my tail…"

- "Chaffs, Chaffs !"

- "Damn, can't evade. Falcon Blue One, Bailing Out !"

- "Grass Seed, Copy that !"

- "Blast It, can't break it off… It's… Shrrrrr"

_Twenty-five thousand feet above Valetta, Malta._

At the same moment, the operator onboard the E3C Awacs circling above Malta, codename Grass Seed, lost all contact with both F-16's, and their spots instantly vanished from his radar screen…

- "Grass Seed for Falcon Blue, Over !"

Receiving only static as an answer, he turned to his colleague.

- "Jerry, call immediately the "De Gaulle" and ask them to send an SAR mission on the area, I lost contact with Falcon Blue flight, one of them called bailing out, the other I don't know about but I fear he was shot down too."

- " OK, I'm calling them now !"

_To be continued..._

* * *

_That's it for now. I hope you've enjoyed this story so far. In next chapter, we'll focus more on Tallboy's Squadron Leader, James Alexander (Philip's cousin) and his relation with his cousin. Also, there will be some part in Captain Alexander's POV, mostly how he feels about Falco's death... _


	6. Chapter 6 : of technical problems and wo

_**Here we are, that's the "emotionnal" part of the story. You'll get a small insight to the Alexander family here, and you'll get more about that at the end of the book for sure. Also, James will be present in my other story, Codename Excalibur, I'm also writing actually (an Alex Rider story, set in 2012 in the Falklands with a remake of 1982 where Scorpia is pulling the strings of the Argentine's military High Command and political High-Ups to get them to start a war against the UK…**_

_**So here we go for :**_

* * *

**Chapter 6 : Of technical problems and wounded pilots.**

_50 miles east of Malta…_

Mid-way from the coast of Italy, I got a low fuel warning on my external fuel tanks. As I switched on my internal tanks, I immediately saw to my greatest amazement that the warning wasn't going off. I was at the brink of being out of fuel ! Even if I was near Valetta airport, I knew It was only available in case of dire emergency, so I choose to continue to Trapani, turning left to 330 degrees. I then called our controller.

_"Grass Seed, Tallboy one, I have a major fuel alarm on, both external and internal tank. Only have ten minutes left of fuel. Could you vector me to a tanker, over ?"_

"Copy, Tallboy one. Tanker twenty miles west from your position, level twenty, available to refuel for one aircraft only, they're on the end of their run. Callsign is Fatboy, frequency 132.5"

"Copy, Grass Seed, proceeding to 270 and climbing to level twenty. Also request divert to Trapani, over"

"Roger, Tallboy, we're calling them. After refueling, proceed back to 330 and call Trapani ATC on 122.25"

"Copy, Grass Seed. Tallboy, Out !"

I then tried to see where the problem would come from, but from my position I was not able to see a damn thing…

"Hey, Red Two", I then called my wingman, "could you check my aircraft for any leak ?"

"Aye, leader… Gosh… I see multiple AAA impacts on the fuselage, right on the belly tanks location…"

"Damn… So I only ran on the external tanks…", I then thought, "OK, let's isolate the internal tanks, and only use the externals… right…"

As I was isolating my internal fuel tanks for the refueling, I continued to climb, heading to 270, and soon had the tanker in visual.

"OK, Leader to all Tallboys, you proceed back to Gioia. I'll get back independently. Red two, you're now the leader."

"Red Two, copy, leader. Godspeed !"

"Thanks, Two.", then switching on the tanker's frequency, "Fatboy, Tallboy Red One here, and quite thirsty…"

"Copy, Tallboy, I got a fresh glass o' scotch fer ya !"

"Aye, ye're from Dundee too ?", I asked, recognizing his accent…

"Ye got that, laddie !" the operator answered.

It was funny that two Scots from the same town would meet right here in the middle of a war zone… As soon as I got my external tanks full, I disengaged and, bidding farewell to my fellow Scotsman, I headed back to 330 degrees, right fro Trapani Airbase.

* * *

_Dolphin ASR helicopter, French Navy, 40 miles north of Tripoli…_

« Alerte un de Dauphin un, visuel sur un naufragé, dix nautiques sud de notre position, à vous (1)»

« Dauphin Un d'Alerte Un, bien compris. Pas d'opposition pour l'instant, procédez au repèchage, on vous couvre (2)»

« Bien compris, Alerte Un. Dauphin Un, Terminé ! (3) »

Three minutes later the french chopper, protected by the four Rafale jetfighters from the French Navy, was above Philip's position and, as soon as he reached 50 feet, they winched the frogman who quickly swam to reach the american pilot.

"Hey, you're all right", the frenchman said.

"Nay, I think I broke my left leg…", Philip hissed, obviously in pain.

"Okay, I'll straighten the leg as well as I can and we'll get you to our carrier."

As soon as Philip agreed, the frenchman wrapped his left leg against his buoy with a sandow and then hooked him on the winch, and he was lifted into the air towards the chopper's open door where another airman was waiting for him. As soon as he was in the chopper and laid on a stretcher, they winched the frogman back and set course to search for Falco.

"Any news of my wingman ?", Philip asked the medic who was tending to his leg.

"We're still searching for him. He dissapeared shortly after you were shot down…"

"Oh no ! Falco… Please, tell me he bailed out ! "

"We don't know for sure… Grass seed only called for one bail out, so…"

"Oh God, Falco, why you !", he then whispered, tears falling freely from his eyes…

* * *

_Trapani, Scicily, twenty minutes later._

Finally, I had made it to Trapani with fuel to spare, thanks to a gliding approach, and I landed on my first approach even if I was somewhat exhausted by the long mission and had concentration problems during the final approach… As I got out of my fighter, followed by my WSO, an american officer, a colonel it seemed, came to me.

"Squadron Leader Alexander ? I'm Colonel Faulkleitner, USAFE. I'm your cousin's squadron leader, in fact."

"The world is so small… Nice to meet you, Sir. And where is this dear old cousin of mine ? Again gone fishin' ?"

"In fact he was shot down earlier near Tripoli, but has been rescued by a french chopper from the De Gaulle. They're bringing him as soon as they'll have tended to his broken leg, but it'll sure take a few hours still…"

" God ! I'm really glad he's OK. So he was one of those fighter pilots who protected my guys over there then…"

"Exactly. And if I may, what happened to bring you here ?"

"Well, I was apparently hit by triple-A while attacking the armored vehicles, and got a fuel leak in my main tanks. Fortunately, I had not jetissoned my external tanks, so I was able to join a tanker and gather enough fuel to get here…"

"You're really lucky. I remember one of our pilot had the same problem back in the balkans and spent seven days behind enemy lines…"

"I indeed was lucky, I'm aware of that."

"Sure. Well, let's get you to our OPS room. You'll be able to call Gioia from there."

"Thanks"

* * *

_Later that evening…_

I was sitting at the Mess hall, my plate stuffed with a not-so-bad-at-all steak & kidney pie, courtesy of one of the british cooks that joined our Typhoon squadron deployed there, when there was a call on the main intercom.

"Message for Squadron Leader Alexander, the shuttle from the De Gaulle is scheduled to land in ten minutes !"

I could tell that the american pilots and mechanics in the Mess never had seen someone each such a heavy meal as fast as I did at that moment. Within the next five minutes, I had downed the content of my plate, rinsed it with a whole mug of hot tea I downed in less than ten seconds… I then rushed out and arrived right on time on the parking to see the COD, a french navy C-2 Greyhound, land smoothly on the runway and slowly taxi towards us. As soon as the turboprops stopped, I rushed to the exit to see my cousin being hauled out on a stretcher… I followed them to the medical antenna where he was transferred, always staying near my cousin.

"Hiya, Philip, Old chap !", I called him…

"Jimmy ? What the Hell are you doin' here ? I thought you were in Gioia ?"

"Well, a few bullet's holes in my main fuel tanks, and here I come… Ain't glad to see me ?"

"Of course I am, you idiot ! How's Janet ? And my lovely godson Alan ?"

"They're fine, thanks. I spoke to them earlier, and they send you their best wishes of recovery."

"Thanks. As about recovery, it'll take some time, I fear. They patched me up aboard the carrier, but I'll steel need some surgery later to remove the pins in my leg as soon as the bones had melded."

"Well, better that than loosing your leg, isn't it ?"

"Yeah, sure…"

"By the way, how's Sandra ?"

"She's fine. She's visiting our parents back in the states. She'll come back home within a few days…"

"Glad to hear it."

We then arrived in the medical antenna and they installed him in a room where he'd spend a day or two resting before his transfer back to Spangdalheim.

"Oh, by the way", he asked me as I got back in the room after they installed him, "did they tell you if they found my wingman ?"

"Yes… They found his body ten miles from your position… I'm sorry, old chap…"

I then saw Philip's face darkening. I knew that look very well, having experienced that myself before, back in the Balkans…

"Come on, Phil. I now it's hard, but you'v got to hang on. You're not at fault here. You've done all what you could to prevent this… And I'm sure he knew like me what where the risks when he enlisted to become a fighter pilot, isn't it ?"

"Still I should have protected him, not taking him in that damned bloody trap they sprang on us !"

"Look, Philip, I also lost pilots back in Afghanistan and Kosovo. I've gone trough this before you, and even if I know it was not my fault, I took this as hard as you're doing now. It's normal, just know it. But as I did then, you've got to get yourself back on your feet and… oh, sorry, I'm a bloody moron… Of course you can't stand right now…"

"Yeah… I already bailed out once and that's enough, I'd like to keep my crash report blank, thank you very much !"

That retort got me doubled over in laughter… I knew Phil had a tremendous sense of humour, but I never expected him to pull this kind of joke right now. That got me reassured that he would get over that grief sooner than later…

"Whew", I told him as soon as I had recovered, "that was brilliand, old chap ! Keepin' your crash report blank… Well it's not now that you'll be able to try a crash landing for sure…"

"Well, I can still try it on my computer with the auto-rudder on, isn't it ?"

"Ha ! Always an answer to my puns, have ya ?"

"What do you think, I got a reputation to keep, you know…"

"Just perfect. Well, I'm glad I had been able to meet you before getting back to Gioia. Just get well, ok ? I'll come to see ya in germany as soon as I've got a leave…"

"Bring Janet and Alan with you, would you ?"

"Will do, old boy. Cheerio !"

"'d bye, cousin ! "

* * *

**End Notes :** Translations from french...

1: « Alert One, Dolphin One, I have a visual on a castaway, ten klicks south of our position, over"

2 : « Dolphin One, Alert One, copy that. No opposition in the area at the moment, you can proceed to the rescue, we'll cover you !"

3 : « Copy that, Alert One. Dolphin One, Out !"

* * *

_**That' it. Next chapter will arrive in the next weeks I hope, as we'll skip in time to early june and the actual operations in Libya, and also preparing the end of this story (only two or three chapters to go) and a link to the appearance of James Alexander in Codename : Excalibur !**_

_**So till next time with Chapter 7 : The end of an Era !**_


	7. Chapter 7 : The end of an era

**A.N. : Here comes the first glimpse at the connection between this story and my Alex Rider story "Codename : Excalibur". You'll see the appearance of Tom Harris, as a SAR Sea-King pilot... Later in the story, normally in the last chapter, you'll be able to see how James and Alex met and became friends...**

**Disclaimer : I do not own Alex Rider nor Tom Harris, they are property of Anthony Horrowitz. All other characters and the plot, still, are totally mine !**

* * *

**Chapter 7 : The end of an era**

Trapani Airbase, june 4, 2011…

On that crisp spring morning, I was flying my last combat mission on the Tornado. Nearly ten years after entering the RAF as a fighter pilot, I'll finally get to fly on the newest aircraft of the Air Force, the Eurofighter Typhoon FGR-4 Multi role. But before I got to the OCU**_(1)_** in Leuchars, Scotland, I still had a mission to fly and four weeks of leave to look forward to…

Our mission, as again, was to strike Gaddafi's forces and supply depots, our target today being a SAM missile depot in the outskirts of Tripoli. As I just finished reporting the information about SAM and triple-A batteries on my pad, I saw my WSO**_(2)_** coming towards me…

"_Hey, Jimmy, the birds are fed and ready. I got the latest meteo report on the area, and all is OK._"

"_Perfect, Paulie. Here, copy those data's in the onboard computer, I've updated the SAM positions from our latest intel reports._"

"_Right away, Jim. See ya at the briefing !_"

"_Yep, Paulie !_"

As soon as Paul had left the room, I put down my pad and grabbed my cell phone, dialling home.

"_Alexander Cottage, Mrs Alexander here !_"

"_Hiya, Janet… Guess who's callin' ?_"

"_Jim, Honey ! I'm so happy to hear you", answered my wife and, turning to the living room, "Al, come quick, it's Daddy !_"

"_Hey Alan, how are you, son ?_" I called as soon as I heard him taking the phone.

"_Fine, Dad. Uncle Rich got me to fly with him in his Cessna, and I flew it just right…_"

"_That's my boy ! You're good to your mum, right ?_"

"_Yup. Mum wants to speak to you… Bye, Daddy, see you soon…_"

"_I'll be here soon, Alan._" Then, as my wife came on the line again, "_Listen, Janet, I'm scheduled to get back tomorrow afternoon, so pack all you and Alan need for a two week vacation, we're going to visit Philip in Germany !_"

"_That's wonderful, Honey. We'll be ready to leave as soon as you're back !_"

"_Perfect. Well,I've got to go now, I still have work to be done here. I'll see you tomorrow, OK ?_"

"_Okay. Love you, Jim_"

"_Me too, Sweetheart._"

Two hours later, we were airborne once again. It was my fortieth sortie since the beginning of this "war" and if only the first ones had seen opposition from the Libyan air force and SAM batteries, they were now virtually destroyed, the only serious threat remaining being the Triple-A truck-mounted guns, easy to move and to hide. They were a real threat to us as we had to fly low to strike with precision, and those were by nature totally unpredictable…

The mission was again a "cooperation" one, as we'd have first Rafale aircraft providing the CAP**_(3)_** and the Wild Weasel **_(4)_** missions, while being controlled by an US AWACS, codename "Magic", and other ATC**_(5)_** stations around Italy and on US and British ships. Other SAM and radar sites near Misratah and Sirte were being attacked also by British Apaches from the HMS Ocean and French choppers from the "Tonnerre"… Even the Italian and Belgian would be involved as they would provide CAP's for the choppers above the Benghazi – Misratah line.

As we were leaving the Italian continent near Catania, heading towards our first waypoint above Syracuse, I checked again my instruments and saw a weird reading on the radar…

"_Hey, Paulie, I got somethin' weird on the scope. Do you have that too ?_"

"_Positive… I think it's a glitch in the program, once again…_"

"_Blast ! Can't you do anything about it ?_"

"_Well, I'm tryin' right now, but all I've done so far isn't workin' at all…_"

"_Damn It ! I don't wanna miss this mission, but if our radar isn't fully operational, we're up to nothin'…_"

"_Well, Jim, all I can say is that all I can have you is what you get now… The glitch is apparently only affecting the multi-mode system…_"

"_Paulie, switch the radar on ground mode only._"

"_Right-O… Here goes nothin'… Whow, it's gone now…_"

"_I knew it, that's this blasted multi-mode protocol upgrade who's buggin' again…_"

"_Well then let's stay on ground mode…_"

"_Okay, Paulie._", then switching on the squadron frequency, "_Tallboy one to Tallboy Squadron, we got a procedure change. Switch all radars on ground mode !_"

"_Red Two, Copy_"

"_Red Three, Wilco_"

"_Red Four, will do, leader_"

"_Blue One, Roger-Roger_"

"_Magic, Tallboy, our multi-mode radar system is out, we're on ground mode only. Call for any air opposition in the area, Over !_"

"_Copy, Tallboy !_"

We then continued to fly southward over Sicily, heading towards Tripoli and our target, unaware that as soon as this mission was to end, my life would take a U-turn, leading me to new challenges and another war.

* * *

_HMS Ocean, 60 miles North of Sirte_

Some Apache helicopters were sitting on the deck of the HMS Ocean amphibious ship. The crew, having just exited their briefing room, were coming one after the other to board their birds, performing their last checks prior to take off to Misratah and another war mission against Gaddafi's air defences. Their mission was today to destroy a radar and anti-aircraft artillery sites west of Misratah.

On the deck, one of the SAR**_(6)_** Sea-King's pilots, Pilot Officer Harris, was on his last mission prior to heading back to Britain where he was to attend the graduation ceremony of his friend Alex Rider, who was to be graduated in two week's time from the RAF College in Cranwell prior to joining 617 squadron in Lossiemouth. He was not part of the attack package today, but was to stay in readiness in case there was a call for a rescue mission. He saw one of his friends, an Apache pilot, coming out of the Island and went to meet him.

"_Hey, again on the go, Willie ?_"

"_Well, Tommy, someone has to clear the way for you land mowers, isn't it ?_"

"_Hey_", he answered, pretending to be angry, "_You'll be glad to see me comin' when your black pen'll got stuck in the sand, don't ya ?_"

"_Well, to be true, our job is sometime useful…_"

"_Sometimes_ ?", mocked Tom, "_When you'll be able to hit your target in a storm while flying at 50 feet above the ground, then you'll be allowed to give me that kind of Sh**_"

"_Well, I'd be glad to explain you that kind of manoeuvre, but I still have a job to do, ya see ?_", he answered while climbing in his cockpit. "_See ya later, Kid !_"

"_Yea, Cheers, Kiddy Cat…_"

The rest of Tom's retort was drowned by the syncopated beat of the blades of the Apaches who were starting their turbines. Soon enough, the attack helicopters were flying off south to the Libyan coastline.

* * *

_Tallboy Squadron, 30 miles North of Tripoli_

"_Magic, Tallboy, 30 clicks to dry feet, any news ?_"

"_Nothin' airborne in your area, Tallboy. Expect heavy triple-A on target, no SAM expected. We got a Rafale squadron on a CAP between Tripoli and Misratah to cover you !_"

"_Copy, Magic. Keep us aware of any threat in our area, OK ?_"

"_Roger that, Tallboy, we'll keep you posted. Magic, Out !_"

"_OK_", I then said to my squadron, "_Tallboy Squadron, target 35 klicks. I'll paint the target, so try to put the ball in the basket, OK ?_"

"_Two, Copy._"

"_Three, Roger that_"

"_Four, Wilco_"

"_Blue One, will do, Leader_"

We then dropped to five thousand feet to finish our approach and drop our bomb with a maximum of precision. Soon enough, I got the target both on the radar and on the LITENING**_(7)_** pod cameras. I put the cross on the target and switched the laser designator on.

" _Tallboy One, Music is on_**(8)**_. Tally-Ho !_"

At those words, I released a Paveway II**(9)** as did also my wingmen. Within the next few seconds, we turned right, and as we were heading back to the North I saw on the video feed a bright white flash covering the screen. Sure enough, our bombs had hit square on the target, and within seconds there was a massive explosion, sending a huge fireball high in the skies. That's when I felt my plane suddenly bouncing and vibrating, hearing a sound alike stones hitting a window… Immediately, I got a master fire alarm on the left engine, and reacted promptly to the signal, switching on the left fire extinguisher while calling Magic.

"_Magic, Tallboy One, Mayday, Mayday, got hit by triple-A, left engine on fire, right one at 80 percent and falling…_"

"_Copy, Tallboy One, launching rescue right now. Turn right to zero four five, climb as much as you can to reach the sea !_"

"_Already tryin', Magic. OK, left engine shut off, fire off. Right engine stable to sixty percent, but got fuel leak and oil pressure dropping fast…_"

"_OK, Tallboy One. Five clicks to the coast, you are at level eight and climbing. We got a rescue taking off from HMS Ocean and heading to you as fast as they can, Hold on._"

"_Hold on… Easy to say… Ok, I'll try though, Magic._"

"_Leader, Red Two, you're OK ?_"

"_As OK as I can be, Two. You take the lead, and bring the squadron back to base, OK ? I'll try to reach Valletta**(10)** if I can._"

"_Copy, Leader, and Godspeed !_"

"_Thanks, Two ! Tallboy Leader, Out !_"

* * *

Notes :

**1 : OCU** : Operational Conversion Unit, where pilots are transformed on a new military aircraft (here transition from the Tornado to the Typhoon)

**2 : WSO** (pronounce Weezow) : Weapon System Officer (the guy in the back seat in the Tornado, who's in charge of all weaponry and of the radar, so the pilot can concentrate on flying and fighting only)

**3 :CAP** : Close Air Patrol : Fighter patrol in a given area, ready to engage any enemy fighter, to protect a "box" where other aircrafts are to operate

**4 :Wild Weasel** : Name given to the anti-radar and anti-SAM missions.

**5 : ATC** : Air Traffic Control

**6 : SAR** : Search And Rescue, name of the rescue squadrons who have charge of rescuing downed pilots above sea or enemy territory

**7 : LITENING pod** : Targeting pod designed by Rafael, used to designate with laser the targets for the LGB or laser guided bombs (like the Paveway serie)

**8 : "Music is on"** : radio call meaning that the target is designated (painted) by the laser designator of the LITENING pod.

**9 : Paveway II** : Laser Guided bomb of the new generation.

**10 : Valetta** : capital of Malta

* * *

**A.N. : Well, that's it for this chapter. Only two to come and that will be a wrap. In the next chapter (Chapter 8 : Endgame !), we'll see James and Tom Harris meeting on the HMS Ocean and James finally coming back home to his wife and kid.**

**Also, please review the story. It's what gives me the drive to write more, and also that's the only way I can have your comments and critics, allowing me then to write better chapters and stories in the future.**


	8. Chapter 8 : EndGame !

**A.N. : The end comes near... In this chapter, we'll see more of Tom Harris and his helicopter crew. Also, there's a introduction at the appearance of Alex Rider in the next chapter (that will be the last before the epilogue...) and also a link to my Alex Rider story "Codename : Excalibur".**

**Disclaimer : I do not own Alex Rider nor Tom Harris. All other characters and the plot, however, are mine.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 8 : EndGame !**

_HMS Ocean, Sirte's Gulf…_

The horn blaring the general quarters got Tom out of his reverie. He then heard the call…

"_Rescue emergency. Rescue Two Scramble, this is not a Drill, repeat Rescue Two Scramble, this is not a Drill !_"

The call hasn't even ended that Tom was already climbing in his Sea-King, followed shortly by his crew and, two minutes only after the call, the bright yellow helicopter was airborne, speeding Westwards, away from the ship and towards the coast line near Misratah.

As he set heading to the west, Thomas called immediately the Awacs to gather more information about his mission.

"_Magic, Rescue Two, Airborne 40 miles north-east of Misratah, heading Two Two five, level One, Over !_"

"_Copy, Rescue Two. We have a Tornado calling a Mayday ten miles north-east of Tripoli, heading zero four five towards you, one engine out and major fuel leak as well as oil pressure fall !_"

"_Copy that, Magic, we're pushing at full speed, keep us posted on Tornado's whereabouts !_"

"_Will do, Rescue Two. Magic, Out !_"

* * *

_Tallboy One, ten miles north-east of Tripoli…_

"_Magic, Tallboy One, oil pressure 50 %, hydraulic pressure going sown too, only ten minutes fuel left, second engine stable at 60 %, over !_"

"_Copy that, Tallboy one. We've got a Sea-King speeding towards you, callsign Rescue Two. If needed, just bail out, they're around sixty miles from you and closing._"

"_Copy that, Magic. I'll try to stay airborne as long as I can to get as close as possible to them._"

"_Roger, Tallboy One. Magic, Out !_"

I then started to prepare myself for a bail-out, getting everything ready. I continued to fly north-east for around ten minutes at 250 knots, then I got a major hydraulic failure alarm on the instrument panel.

"_Damn It, our hydraulic pressure is going down to the deck… Paulie, get ready, time to bail out of this dying bird !_", I told my WSO on the intercom and then, switching to Magic's frequency, "_Magic, Tallboy One, Mayday, Mayday, major hydraulic system failure, all engines off line_", I called them as I experienced the total silence of flying a glider… "_The aircraft is becoming difficult to fly, bailin' out in ten ! Tallboy, Out !_"

"_Copy, Tallboy One, Rescue Two twenty miles from you. Good luck and Godspeed !_"

"_OK, Paulie, get ready… Eject Eject Eject_", I called my WSO

As soon as I had called the third "Eject", I pulled the ejection lever and the canopy was blown away. A second later, I felt like a huge kick in the ass as the ejection seat's rocket started and got me out of my dying fighter, closely followed by my WSO. My Tornado then started to nose down to the Mediterranean waters five thousand feet below, ending there in a huge splash as our parachutes opened and got us drifting slowly to the sea below.

* * *

_Rescue Two, 20 miles East of the ejection point…_

"_Rescue Two, Magic, Tallboy One is in the water 20 miles west of your position, over !_"

"_Copy, Magic. We're at maximum speed, ETA five minutes. Rescue Two, Out !_"

Both Tom and his copilot started to scan the waters in front of them for the two pilots and, about five minutes later, the copilot saw two human forms in the water, one mile in front of them. Soon, he also saw a red flare climbing in the sky from the pilot's position…

"_Tom, Two O'clock around two clicks…_"

"_Seen them, Frank ! Pilot to crew, get ready to winch the two crewmen, ETA two minutes !_"

* * *

_Mediterranean sea, two miles north-west of Rescue two's position…_

I had landed about one hundred yards from Paulie and quickly started to swim towards him. As soon as I reached him, I saw he was OK but still shocked by the ejection process. I then swam to the dinghy and towed it back towards him, getting him inside. As I was about to climb inside the rubber boat myself, I heard a syncopated sound growing steadily. True enough, I quickly saw a bright yellow helicopter rushing towards us. I fired a flare to signal our position and, only seconds later, the Sea-King was flying right above, winching a frogman towards us…

"_OK, we'll winch you up first", he called as soon as he came close to the boat !_"

"_No, get my WSO first, he's in shock and I'm not sure he's not wounded… I'm fine, don't worry about me !_"

"_OK, Sir !_"

He then got Paulie out of the dinghy and strapped to the winch, and up they went. Five minutes later, it was my turn and as soon as I was safe inside the Westland chopper, the pilot immediately sped towards his base.

"_Sir_", I called the medic, "_How is he ?_", I continued, pointing towards Paulie.

"_Still in shock, but what I'm fearing the most is that he can well have a cracked skull or only a heavy concussion if he's lucky…_", then, casting a glance towards me as I was rubbing my sore shoulder, "_You OK ?_"

"_Yeah, nothin' that a good night's sleep will heal, just a bit sore…_"

"_All right. I'll go to the cockpit to tell our pilot to get back as fast as he can. As soon as we"ll have your team mate in the Ocean's hospital the best it'll be._"

"_OK_", I told him, sitting near Paulie's stretcher as the doc went to the cockpit.

* * *

_Rescue Two's cockpit…_

"_Tommy ? Could you please get back at top speed, the WSO is not really in top shape and will need medical attention as soon as possible, I fear for the least a heavy concussion… _"

"_All right, Mike_", answered Tom Harris, "_I'll call the boat to get a medical team ready to take him in as soon as we've landed._"

"_Perfect. I'll be in the back, OK ?_"

"_Copy, Mike_", said Harris and then, switching on Magic's frequency, "_Magic, Rescue two, we have the crew aboard, one of them is in trauma condition !_"

"_Copy, Rescue Two. We advise Ocean for medical attention as soon as you'll land. You're clear to proceed at full speed, nothing in the area on level One._"

"_Copy that, Magic. Rescue Two, Out !_"

"_Well Tom, seems our last mission won't be a fluke at all, isn't it ?_", called Frank.

"_I really don't care about that now, ya know… All I want is to be back as fast as I can. This guy's life depends on it ,I can feel that… Hope he'll be OK in the end…_"

"_I hope so, too. By the way, have you got news from your friends ?_"

"_Alex ? Yea, he's going to graduate from Cranwell RAF College this summer. And then, he'll move up to Leuchars, where he's going to fly on Typhoons, Apparently._"

_Well, I hope he'll enjoy that. My brother also flies on Typhoon in Coningsby, he's Flight Lieutenant there !_"

"_You know, this is not only our last mission here, but also my last mission with you folks. I received my orders yesterday. I'll leave in two days for a three weeks leave and then I'll join Leuchars' SAR squadron._"

"_You're following your friend ?_"

"_Well, not really. You see, my girlfriend's from Dundee, so…_"

"_Aren't you a lucky bloke…_"

"_What do you want ? I was the one granted with the good looks in my family, that's why my brother's ended in the Commandos…_"

Tom then called the HMS Ocean to confirm he had priority to land as he was approaching his base ship fast…

"_Ocean, Rescue Two, twenty miles west, request priority landing clearance, wounded crewman aboard…_"

"_Roger that, Rescue Two, you're clear to land. We got no activities in the area as for now, so all the deck is yours._"

"_Copy that, Ocean. ETA six minutes, I'll land midship. Rescue Two, Out !_"

* * *

**A.N. : That's it, end of chapter 8. In the next one, the landing on the HMS Ocean and the first meeting of Alex Rider and James Alexander, with also link to events related in Codename Excalibur's first chapter.**

**So see you around for Chapter 9 : Goin' Home !**


	9. Chapter 9 : Goin' Home !

**A.N. : Here comes the last chapter of Odyssey Dawn, before the Epilogue linking to my Alex Rider story "Codename : Excalibur" where James and Richard Alexander will appear at the beginning of the second third of the story. Also, in this chapter, Alex and James first meeting... **

**Disclaimer : I do not own Alex Rider, nor Tom Harris or the Pleasures, they are Anthony Horrowitz's. The other characters and the plot, however, are solely mine.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 9 : Goin' home !**

_HMS Ocean, five minutes later_

The crewmen were working in a frenzy on the deck of the British amphibious ship, having heard that Rescue two was close and that the Apaches, having been successful in their mission, were also on their way back. On the bridge, Rear Admiral Tolland was searching the skies west with his binoculars ans soon caught sight of the yellow Sea-King speeding low on the horizon. At that moment, the radio came back to life…

"_Ocean, Rescue Two on final, over !_"

"_Copy, Rescue Two. You're clear to land midship, medics and ground crew are ready for you. As soon as the rescued crew is on the deck, you're to take-off again to cover for Strike Alpha's return, over !_"

"_Wilco, Ocean. Rescue Two, Out !_"

Tom then concentrated all is attention between his instrument panel and the ship's deck in front of him, the sea fortunately being quite calm, not like the time he landed six months earlier in the north sea when they rescued a catamaran's crew in one of the worst storms he ever had seen. He lowered to two hundred feet and slowly reduced speed. Fifty seconds later, he was right above his landing point, and brought swiftly his helicopter to the deck.

As soon as they had touched down, the door was open from the inside and in less than a minute, they had taken off again to cover the landing operations of the Apaches.

* * *

_RAF Station Marham, 24 hours later…_

Only hours after I landed on the HMS Ocean, the medics had treated Paulie who had only a heavy concussion, and they evacuated us both to Sigonella. With us was the crew of Rescue Two, as they were to return to England. We boarded with them the liaison Airbus to Marham, from where I would fly back home to Lossiemouth. What I did not know at the time was that my brother Richard had a surprise for me, having taken my wife and son with him on the liaison Islander to get me and Paulie in Marham…

As soon as the A-340 had landed and started to roll on the taxiway to the Parking area, I saw that families were awaiting us. That's when I saw a young pilot in a flight suit, standing outside the crowd with two young ladies… What got most of my attention on that pilot was the fact that even if he was certainly quite young, his demeanour was the one of someone who had seen combat in numerous occasions. But I soon forgot totally about him as I saw Richard standing near the station's Islander, my wife and son waiting impatiently at his side that the aircraft finally stopped on the parking area.

A few minutes later, I was nearly knocked down on the ground when Janet threw herself in my arms, tears of joy falling freely from her eyes… Alan and Richard, being quieter, stood a few feet away, both smiling.

"_Shh… It's OK, love… I'm OK…_"

"_God, I was so scared yesterday when they called to tell us you had been shot down…_"

"_Bah, that was nothin' more than a little bath in the warm waters of the Mediterranean sea, you know…_", I answered her and, as she let me go, I grabbed Alan, grinning at him; "_Hey, Son… You've been good to your mother, right ?_"

"_Course, Dad. I missed you, you know… Even if Uncle Ritchie was there to play with me…_"

"_Don't worry, brother_", Richard then said, clapping my shoulder, "_he was quite the good kid. I really enjoyed playing football with him, he's quite talented, you know ?_"

"_Thanks, Ritch'. By the way, I'd like to introduce you to someone. Follow me_", I said, leading them to my saviours who were reuniting with their families. That's when I saw Harris, located out of the crowd with the pilot and the two ladies I saw earlier… I went to him and, even if the pilot seemed at first reluctant to people joining them, a word from Harris seemed to reassure him. "_Ah, Mister Harris, let me introduce you to my family. Here are my wife Janet, my son Alan, and my brother Flight Lieutenant Richard Alexander, Squadron 12._", I told Tom Harris and then, turning to my family, "_Guys, this is Pilot Officer Harris, the pilot of the helicopter that rescued me and Paulie back there in Libya…_"

"_Please let me express my thanks to you and your crew for saving my husband, Mr Harris_", said Janet.

"_No need to thank us at all, really, Madam. We only were doing our job, you know… We're always ready to do whatever is needed to rescue our pairs… But I'm quite impolite… Let me introduce you to my friends… My fiancée Sandy Parker, my best friend and future Typhoon Pilot P/O Alexander John Rider, and his fiancée Sabina Pleasure. Guys, this is Squadron Leader Alexander, leader of the squadron 617 Dam Busters._"

"_Wait… You're James Alexander, the first British pilot to shoot down a MiG 29 in Serbia in 1995 ?_"

"_Yes Indeed… But your name isn't foreign to me, Mister Rider… Wouldn't you be related to a John Rider, who was in the SAS ?_"

"_He was my father_", answered Rider, "_He died back in 1991 in an air crash with my mother…_ "

"_God, if I had known… He was a friend of my dad, Rear Admiral Edward Alexander, who met him in 1982 during the Falklands war. He was first officer on the HMS Hermes at the time…_"

"_So our fathers fought together in the Falklands ? I know by my uncle that my Dad fought there, but I had little information about that, as he died when I was one year old, and I was raised by my Uncle, Iain Rider, who died in a car crash six years ago…_"

"_Blast, what a tragic story is yours… By the way, I'm sure we'll meet again soon. I'm do join the OCU in Leuchars next month for my conversion on Typhoon FGR4…_"

"_Yes indeed_", he answered, smiling as he saw his fiancée talking quietly with my wife while entertaining my son, "_I'm to join squadron 43 there at the same time… Perhaps we'll be able to have some time down together with my fiancée, who will be my wife then. We've bought a nice cottage there, and we've got two spare rooms… So your wife and son would be able to stay close to you during your stay there…_"

"_You're sure ? I really don't want to intrude…_"

"_Don't worry. As the son of one of my Dad's friends, you'll be more than welcome home. And it also seems that Sabs had taken quite a liking in your son… I'm sure she'll talk me again in having one of our own as soon as we'll be home…_", he answered with a smirk at the display of affection Alan was showing towards his fiancée…

"_Well, all I can say is that he's the greatest gift I ever was given on earth, with my wife of course… Thanks for your invitation, I'll let you know when we'll arrive in Leuchars as soon as I'll have my training schedule._"

"_Perfect. I really hope you'll enjoy your stay there, the scenery is quite fabulous at this time of the year…_", he said before leaving me to join his fiancée and heading back to their car, a nice silver Aston Martin. I got back to the Islander and, as soon as we all got onboard, we took off, heading back home !

* * *

_Spangdalheim, Germany, three weeks later…_

It was a wonderful summer day there in the heart of Germany. I was again visiting the airbase at Spangdalheim with my cousin Philip, as he was finally back on his feet, recovering nicely from his accident in Libya two months earlier. As we were sitting in the Mess hall, taking a refreshment, I asked the bartender to switch the television on the BBC to watch the news, as we were the two only people there… I got myself a second cup of tea and took a sip as I saw the BBC News starting. At the first title, I asked the bartender to raise the sound…

"… _we still don't have knowledge of the exact cause of this crash, but the officials from the RAF and the investigation team would favour the criminal act theory, as the pilot was a well known MI-6 operative who was under a death threat from an international crime ring named Scorpia. He was flying to meet a friend in Germany with his wife and his sister, as well as his friend Flying Officer Harris and his wife's family. Pilot Officer Rider had just been promoted two days ago from the RAF College Cranwell and was to join his squadron within the next two weeks…_"

At that moment, I was totally numb, unable to process the fact that those two fine young guys I met a few weeks earlier were dead… Philip, seeing I was totally spaced out, came next to me…

"_Jim, you're OK ? What's happenin' ?_"

"_Poor guys…_", I then whispered, snapping out of my trance, "_I knew those guys, Rider and Harris… the latter was the pilot of that chopper that rescued me last month when I had to bail out on my last mission in Libya… I met his fiancée and the Riders in Marham when I came back and was to join Rider in the OCU in Leuchars next week…_"

"_Oh God ! I'm sorry, Jim. The crash happened near the coast line, apparently. Do you want to go there ? I can ask to use the Learjet if you want…_"

"_Thanks, Phil, I'd be glad… I really want to know what happened… and if I can, to avenge them…_"

"_OK, Old boy. Let's get to the CO's office_", he then answered as we both stood up, leaving the Mess where the News continued on the TV, totally forgotten…

* * *

**A.N. : That's it, Next to come : the Epilogue, and this story will come to its end... **


	10. Epilogue : When the sound of war drums r

**Epilogue : When the sound of war drums rise again…**

_Lossiemouth RAF Station, Scotland, February 2012…_

Eight months had gone by since that day in Germany when I heard of Harris and Rider's deaths. In fact, they were still alive and well, so I heard from the head of MI-6 after signing the Secret Service Act. They were now Jonathan McKittrick and Thomas Harrisson, both serving as RAF pilots in the Falkland Islands, at Mount Pleasant RAF Station. I met Rider-McKittrick back in Leuchars, where I was welcomed by his family to his home where I stayed for the four weeks of my operational conversion with my wife and son. We both trained on the brand new FGR-4 fighter-bomber variant of the Eurofighter Typhoon, along the way becoming friends. A month later, he left for Stanley as I got back to Lossiemouth, prior to a new deployment in Libya.

In this early afternoon of february, snow coated the hills and mountains of Scotland, giving the landscape here in Lossiemouth a magestic look. I was back from my deployment in Trapani Air Base, Scicily, enjoying some quality time with my wife as our son Alan was in school, when the phone suddenly rung.

"_I'll get it, Honey !_", I told Janet, getting up to answer the call.

"_All right, Jim, but don't forget though that we're to go to see Richard tomorrow…_"

"_Don't worry, Love_", I answered her, picking the phone up, "_Squadron Leader Alexander._"

"_Jim, this is Wing Co Stephenson._", my C.O. Answered. "_ We've got quite a situation on our hands right now. The Argentinian have invaded the Falklands again, and both the 12__th__ and 617__th__ squadrons are to move in two days time to Wideawake in Ascension…_"

"_Damn those blasted Argies ! OK. I'll be at the station in fifteen minutes, Sir !_"

"_OK. See you then, Jim !_"

As I hung up the phone, I saw Janet watching me with worry in her eyes…

"_Sorry, Love, but it seems that Ritch and me won't be able to be there tomorrox… We're at war with Argentina, they invaded the Falklands again and both my squadron and Ritch's one are to move to Ascension to join the fight._"

As I then saw my wife turning white, worrying as myself about our friend Jonathan who was based there, I got ready to leave for our first briefing and what I knew was to be one of the thoughest operations I will ever be part of…

* * *

_To be continued in :_

"_**Codename : Excalibur**"_

* * *

**A.N. : Here we are, that's a wrap. This story is now finished, but I'm planning to come back to the Libyan conflict later with a story from the point of view of a French Navy Rafale Pilot aboard the Charles de Gaulle and also from the POV of various French Air Force and Coalition pilots involved in the operations. Of course, James Alexander may then reappear for his second deployment there prior his departure to the Falklands... And, of course, there is the "follow-up" of this story, Codename Excalibur. A "remake" of the Falklands, 30 years after the first conflict... this time with even more at stake... **

**Thanks again to all my reviewers and all the ones who left me messages about this story and the one-shot "The last flight of the Blue Falcon" that's related to it... Hope you've enjoyed both stories and that you'll enjoy Codename Excalibur.**

**Your Author, Eric J. Alderson.**_  
_


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